Thirteen Times Named
by The Professor of time
Summary: The doctor goes through the TARDIS and is questioned by several people. It's better than it sounds, I promise.


I DONT OWN DOCTOR WHO!

The Doctor sighed. Clara was asleep in her home, leaving him alone again.

"Clara," He whispered, more to the TARDIS than to himself, "Who are you? How could you possibly be here?"

The TARDIS, as usual, said nothing in reply. This was hardly odd, considering the fact that eleventh dimensional beings were not compatible with speech. This was due to the interesting condition of being able to speak out of time, which had the potential to break the fabric of space-time itself.

The Doctor sighed again before checking his watch. It was 10:00.

He got up from his seat in the console room, glancing at the many corridors that branched out from it. Picking one at random, he began to stroll down it.

As he walked, he thought of the first time he had met Clara- Inside the asylum, a prison planet that daleks were sent when they became too cruel, even for their own standards. He hadn't known it at the time, but she had been captured and fully converted into one of the metallic murderers. She hadn't been Clara then, She had been Oswin. Oswin Oswald, member of starship Alaska, a girl that wanted nothing more to see the stars- A girl that died on her first voyage. She died to save him, and it was, ironically, killing him now.

The next time he saw her, after Amy and Rory had been taken back to 1950's New York- Seventeenth century London. The great intelligence had attacked with the intention of creating a world made of un-melting ice. Of course, she wasn't his Clara either, but Clara Oswin Oswald, Governess and former barmaid. She was going to travel with him- Go places throughout the stars. But she died as well, saving him from a woman of ice that had been created by the intelligence.

And then, there was Clara. His Clara, Clara Oswald. A silly little girl, an IMPOSSIBLE girl, the only mystery worth solving anymore. He had shown her things she wouldn't ever believe, things no one could believe- But she took it all in stride. And she was them, Oswin Oswald and Clara Oswin Oswald. He had taken her someplace to see who she truly was, and he was told that she was exactly what she seemed- An ordinary girl. But that was impossible.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he stopped in front of a white door. He didn't know how long he'd been walking anymore. "Where are we, old girl, eh? Somewhere new?"

He pushed open the door and stopped at the sight that he was greeted by.

A portrait. A simple painting, by Gallifreyan standards, almost equal to an earth finger painting.

But it wasn't. He stared at the portrait of the woman; She was beautiful, as beautiful as he remembered, and he remembered when he had made the status photo.

"Mother," he whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek.

The Woman in the painting smiled at him, Speaking quietly.

"Hello, -."

His eyes widened at the sound of his own name being spoken by another Time Lord.

"Mother..."

She smiled at him, watching his silent breakdown.

He was ashamed. She had shaped him, taught him more than anyone at the Time Lord academy had. And he had strayed from his ideals, became a warrior rather than a doctor, someone who took life instead of restoring it.

"-," She said, "Do not worry. I am proud of you, More so than you could possibly know."

He looked at her, Tears blurring his vision.

"I'm not - anymore. I gave up that name when I left... When I stole the TARDIS and ran away from my duties on the council."

He turned away from the portrait, locking the door and walking back the way he had come.

He walked until he reached another door, A dead end created by his constant friend.

"Oh, fine then," he yelled at the TARDIS. "Fine, I'll do what you want, I'll let you show me what you want to. But don't expect anything to come from it!"

Angrily, The Doctor opened the door and strode inside.

A mirror.

He was in a small room framed by mirrors.

He stood and looked at his reflections.

And they looked at him.

"Who are you, -?" They said.

"You gave up your name for a promise, but you no longer live up to it. Who are you?" The image directly across from him shifted to an image of The Master.

"Will you become the madman? The man who wants to destroy all traces of you?"

Another of his reflections faded away to show a redhead sitting in a cubicle. Donna Noble, a friend he was forced to leave behind.

"Will you be the woman who no longer remembers herself? Who has become just as rude and selfish as she once was?"

The image to his left morphed into an image of Jack Harkness, his friend and companion in eternity.

"Or will you be the man who wishes for death enough that he shoots himself daily?"

The Doctor turned and ran.

He ran and ran, almost running directly into another door.

"FINE!" He screamed at the ceiling, turning the knob and entering.

The sight left him dumbfounded.

He was facing himself; The First Ten.

They faced him and spoke as one.

"Who are you, -?"

'Who have you become?"

"Who will you be?"

They parted in front of him, forming two lines.

Between the ten Doctors was a bundle of clothes topped by a small red Bow Tie.

The Doctors slowly faded out of sight as he walked toward the bundle. He picked up a small tan jacket, taking off his purple frock coat and slipping it on.

"I am the Doctor. I am the man who heals people. I am the man that has save the earth several thousands of times."

He turned away from the frock and walked away.

"I am the Doctor... And I always will be."

Yay, oneshot done!

Thanks to Lady Viola Delesseps for inspiring me to write again.

R&R?


End file.
